Rikers War Episode Five
by jsk
Summary: Rikers final battle with Locutus


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DISCLAIMER: "Star Trek" is the copyrighted by Paramount, and Paramount  
owns Star Trek and the Star Trek Universe. The following story is   
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Riker's War: Episode 5  
======================  
  
Rikers Inferno  
--------------  
(c) Jasjit Singh, August 1999  
  
The planet of Luela IV was a hot and uninviting place. Largely  
uninhabited due to it's extreme climate, it barely qualified as an M-class  
planet. It was of little note, with not much value to either miners or  
settlers. The ground was arid and dry, and not much vegetation grew here,  
which was mostly desert. And Luela IV lacked valuable minerals. There  
was hardly anything of value here, and so the lonely planet rarely had  
visitors.  
  
Until now.  
  
The smoldering black cube of the Borg was half buried in the ground, in  
the middle of the giant crater it had created upon impact. Barely  
discernable now was the remnant of the USS Crazy Horse, which had been  
rammed into the side of the Borg cube, a final attack maneuver by Captain  
Data.  
  
  
The Borg were disoriented. Those that had not died in the crash had  
transported outside to the surface, a short distance away from their  
grounded vessel. But they were not busily setting up a new command post,  
or working on building a base here. They were merely milling about  
aimlessly, bumping into each other, wandering this way and that. One Borg  
drone got lost and wandered off in another direction, but the majority of  
them stayed within a larger circle of drones.  
  
Captain William T. Riker had managed to transport off the doomed Borg cube  
by clinging onto one of the power generators, and he had materialized  
along with it outside on the desert rock. It was a risky move, but the  
interior of the vessel was starting to fill with noxious fumes, and if he  
had stayed inside for much longer he would soon have been unconscious, and  
then dead. And that was a luxury that he could not afford at this time.  
  
Riker crouched behind a rock adjacent to where the Borg drones were. In  
the midst of them stood a confused Locutus, staring at the ground,  
attempting to sort out the threads of confusion and chaos in the hive  
mind. He would begin to look about, as if gathering the Collective in a  
single unified purpose, one thought, one mind, but seconds later his gaze  
would wander off into the distance, and chaos and confusion would once  
again return.  
  
Riker smirked. The Borg were helpless. He did know if Data had survived,  
but from the looks of the blackened and crumbling hull of the Crazy Horse  
in the background, all hands had been lost in the collision. Riker  
gritted his teeth and stalked out from his hiding place towards the Borg.  
As he approached, Locutus looked up and a look of recognition came into  
his eyes. Riker effortlessly pushed aside several of the drones in his  
path as he walked straight towards Locutus.  
  
"Riker, Captain, William, T," said Locutus, as Riker reached him. Riker  
nodded.  
"Very good, Locutus," he said, and then clenched a fist and thrust it with  
all his might into Locutus' face.  
  
The Borg was stronger than he looked. He only staggered back a few steps.  
  
But Riker had only just begun. With loud cry he lurched forward and  
landed another blow on Locutus' face, and again, as his left fist found  
itself striking Locutus' midsection. The confused Borg tried to shield  
himself from the pummeling, but was compeletly ineffective. Riker, who  
grew more enraged with every blow, was yelling as he advanced upon the  
Borg, his fists now bloody as his skin scraped against the rough Borg  
shell. But still he punched.  
  
"Why, do you attack us?" Locutus finally managed.  
"Why?" roared Riker, "you assimilated my world, enslaved my people!"  
  
And he tripped Locutus with one leg and struck a final blow to his jaw.  
The Borg toppled and fell at Rikers feet, unable to recover from the  
blows. His prosthetic arm waved about in an attempt to aid him back to  
his feet, but the action was useless.  
  
Riker stood towering above the fallen Borg, his chest heaving as he  
recovered his breath. His arms were at his sides, his knuckles bleeding  
as drops of red blood dripped and sank into the dry desert rock.  
  
The Borg looked like an insect that had fallen on its back and was unable  
to right itself.  
  
But Riker felt no mercy.  
  
He was just leaning down to sever Locutus' regenerative tubules when he  
heard strange sounds behind him. He swung around, and saw that the Borg  
drones were no longer milling about. They appeared to be moving in one  
general direction - towards him. They had achieved unified purpose again,  
one mind, one thought. Riker grimaced. The Borg adapted quickly. He  
assessed the situation; they were still at least fifteen feet away from  
him, he had a few seconds. He turned back around to face Locutus...he was  
going to finish the job...  
  
...But Locutus was not flailing on the ground as Riker had left him.  
Locutus was now on his feet, towering over Riker, his prosthetic arm  
reaching for Rikers neck with assimilation tubules already extended.  
Riker was struck with horror. He shrank back from the reach of Locutus.  
At his back, already the Borg drones were beginning to crowd in upon him.  
  
Riker swung around, but powerful arms grabbed him. He was caught in  
between the drones and Locutus. They grabbed him with superhuman strength  
and began to drag him towards Locutus. Riker yanked his arms back but to  
no avail. His feet dragged along the rocky ground as the drones dragged  
him closer and closer towards the fate worse than death - assimilation.  
  
Riker looked up as he neared Locutus. The leader of the Borg stood tall  
before him now, with his pale blue skin almost glowing. His prosthetic  
arm was extended, the tubules dangling dangerously from it. But that was  
not what horrified Riker the most. What struck terror into Riker was the  
expression on Locutus' face: Locutus was smiling! It was a huge, lopsided  
grin. It was as if the ghost of Picard was laughing at Riker from his  
unearthly grave. Riker gasped for air. His vision blurred and  
unconsciousness threatened to overtake him. Riker grit his teeth and  
clenched his fists painfully.  
  
...Stay awake! Stay awake or you will be assimilated! Stay awake  
damnit!...  
  
  
The bright sky overhead dimmed to black. The strong arms holding him down  
were replaced by iron-vice grips. Now all that was left was the   
looming form of his impending disastor. Everything else faded to black.  
Riker found that he could not breathe as Locutus leaned forward with that  
uncanny smile on his face, and inserted the assimilation tubules into  
Rikers neck.  
  
But the prick he felt was not that of the assimilating nanites taking  
control. It was something else. What was it? A flash of light.  
  
And everything was still.  
  
Deathly still.  
  
Riker choked as he began to breathe again, gasping hurriedly for air.  
Locutus still towered above him, and the Borg drones still held him down.  
But everything was *still*, as if someone had hit the pause button on a  
bad movie. Riker looked in awe at the strange black tubules sticking out  
of his neck. His gaze travelled up to Locutus, who seemed completely  
oblivious of his predicament. Riker looked at the drones surrounding him.  
They were all frozen in time.  
  
"Oh come now Riker, don't be awed by such petty things as stopping time."  
  
The voice had come from behind him. Riker craned his neck behind him, and  
saw a man in admirals uniform, stroll lazily from behind the cluster of  
drones and into his full view, until he finally stood beside Locutus. He  
assessed Locutus in a mock serious manner, and then draped an arm over the  
Borg's shoulder for support.  
  
Rikers face turned into a sneer as he said the mans name: "Q"  
  
Q seemed genuinely hurt.  
"I would think you'd be glad to see me at such a juncture as you are  
facing now, Riker. You could show a little gratitude."  
"For what? Stretching out the moment of my defeat?"  
  
Q waved an impatient hand and then came to kneel beside Riker. He thrust  
his face towards Riker, until they were inches away.  
"Tell me Riker, what do you see these beings as, these Borg," he asked  
intensely.  
"They conquer, they assimilate entire worlds, without regard to innocence  
or individual wishes," answered Riker.  
"Exactly. They are very limited, they cannot grow. They don't have that  
elusive quality. The human compunction...."  
  
And Q paused for dramatic effect.  
  
"The need to explore, to better oneself, to improve ones being, to 'see  
whats out there' as Picard once said. They do not suffer from the human  
affliction."  
"How reassuring it must be," remarked Riker dryly, "for them."  
"But thats exactly it, you see," Q sat down cross-legged, in front of  
Riker, "they won't progress farther than, oh, say, ten thousand years.  
But you, you humans...." - and Q waved an enigmatic finger at Riker - "now  
you have *potential*. If, and this is a very big if, you are smart enough  
to realize it."  
"So you came here to free me?" asked Riker incredulously.  
"Oh, nothing of the sort," Q replied, somewhat disdainfully. "The Q  
Continuum would never forgive such irresponsible actions. I do, however,  
have a liking for your species. And well, Picard " - Q looked up at  
Locutus and shrugged - "well he's a lost cause anyway. But you, Riker,  
in you there is potential. I can't help you, not directly anyway. What I  
can tell you is this. You were once gifted with the power of the Q. And  
no matter how brief that gift was, there are and always will be lingering  
effects, lets say, latent powers that still reside in you because your  
being learned them so well. Call upon them now, and you will free  
yourself of this ... little problem."  
  
Riker was not convinced.  
"Why would you want to see me saved from these Borg?" he asked.  
"Well if you perish, Riker, humanity will be wiped out. You are the last  
of your kind, after all. And I need you to be you, all Q need you to be  
you, so we can study you as you develop. And this learn what this elusive  
quality is."  
  
Q vanished in a flash of light, leaving Riker still in the iron-vice grip  
of the Borg. And as soon as Q was gone, everything came back to life.  
The drones, not knowing what had happened, began moving again. And Riker  
felt the nanites pouring into his bloodstream from the assimilation  
tubules.  
  
"No!" he cried out, twisting his side. But it was useless. He stopped  
struggling, and his body began to go limp. He let his head hang low and  
closed his eyes.   
  
Just then the voice of Q penetrated his mind.  
  
"Oh, do concentrate, Riker. Don't just sit there like a hapless  
half-wit."  
  
Riker bit his tongue and fought to stay conscious.  
"It's too much," he groaned. "I can't--"  
  
And then he found himself standing, in a perfectly laundered and pressed  
dress uniform, complete with shining pips, in a little clearing a short  
distance away from the crowd of drones. He was surprised at his own  
appearance and began examining his uniform.  
"Q!" he shouted, "did you do this?"  
  
Q appeared in a flash beside Riker, in a equally clean and immaculate  
admirals uniform.  
"Oh noooo," said Q with a chuckle. "That was entirely you. And a really  
good choice of clothing, if I might add."  
  
With a wink and a smile Q had vanished again.  
  
Riker turned to the Borg. He waved his hand. All the drones vanished.  
Only Locutus remained, looking somewhat confused.  
  
Riker looked up to the gray skies. He closed his eyes, deep in  
concentration, and waved his hand again.  
  
  
Somewhere in another part of the galaxy, a Borg drone-ridden planet came  
back to life. The climate cleared, and the rolling hills greened once  
again. The population reverted to their natural state, as the effects of  
the assimilation wore off. It happened within a few seconds, and on  
distant Luela IV, a spent Riker stood, clutching at the empty air  
surrounding him.  
  
"Earth is free again," he whispered.  
  
  
Locutus made a move. Riker swung his fist towards the Borg and opened the  
palm of his hand, his fingers splayed wide. Locutus was struck by an  
invisible force, and was lifted up off the ground and thrust backwards.  
He flew with the impact for several feet before finally crashing into a  
rock and then tumbling onto the ground. Riker advanced upon Locutus, his  
fet set, his lip curled, an angry sneer upon his face.  
  
Riker did not need to walk. He floated upon the air and hovered a few  
feet above the recovering Borg.  
  
"You are Borg," he proclaimed. "You assimilate."  
"We seek to improve quality of life for everyone involved," offered the  
Borg drone, looking up and attempting to make sense of the image of Riker  
floating in air above him.  
"You destroy what you cannot assimilate!" charged Riker. "You destroy  
life."  
"We add biological and technological distinctiveness to our own," said  
Locutus.  
"You eliminate diversity!" said Riker.  
"We seek perfection," said Locutus.  
"You will be terminated," said Riker slowly, as he raised his right hand.  
  
He hovered in the air, his right hand raised and now crackling and  
sparking with a massive energy, as he watched the drone. Seconds passed.  
Behind him a curious Q reappeared, sitting on a lawn chair with an  
umbrella and sipping lemonade from a straw.  
  
Finally Riker set his resolve and thrust his energy ball at Locutus. He  
thrust his head back and landed on the ground, on his feet, as an  
explosion of light lit up the area surrounding him. And there, in the  
clearing, crouched a naked, quivering man. Jean-Luc Picard looked up from  
his position on the ground with bleary eyes that were sensitive to light,  
and peered up at his former first officer.  
  
"Will?" he asked in a raspy voice, as if uncertain of the reality. Riker  
nodded and knelt down beside Picard.  
"Its me, Jean-Luc," he said, "Everything is going to be fine."  
  
  
T h e E n d  
(c) Jasjit Singh, 1999  
  



End file.
